


The Language of Flowers

by Nelioe



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Artist Kíli, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gardener Fíli, Healing, Kissing, Language of Flowers, M/M, past accident, this might be a little corny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelioe/pseuds/Nelioe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili is a struggling artist, fighting for every spark of inspiration but not succeeding, until he meets Fili.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Language of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_butterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_butterfly/gifts).



> I really hope you like it! :)
> 
> This is the prize (a 5k to 6k words fic by me) for blue_butterfly for the SpringFRE.
> 
> The prompt was a fluffly FiKi fic, with artist!Kili and gardener!Fili.
> 
> As a quick side note, it's up to your imagination if Fili and Kili are brothers in this one or not.

 

 

The sketch-book and pen felt strange in his hands. Months ago they had seemed like an extension of his body. Since he’d started drawing as a young boy creativity had always found him, inspiration a part of him and the need to draw, to paint, to create irrepressible. Kili was overflowing with the urge to move, to draw, to live. Art blocks happened to other people. He studied art, went to parties, drank, had his fair share of sexual partners and for a very long time he believed to live life to its fullest.

Then the accident happened.

Kili didn’t remember much, just that he awoke one day in the hospital, confused and in pain. The doctors spoke of internal bleedings and coma and that recovering would take time. He had recovered, fought his way back into life. He should feel proud of everything he'd achieved. But he didn’t.

Kili had realised pretty fast that he couldn’t draw anymore. In a way he even understood it. He wasn’t the same since the accident, he felt older, less reckless, like he’d gained a new view of the world and with it, his talent seemed to have left him. Everything he tried looked wrong in a way he couldn’t place, as if his art was soulless. If he was honest with himself, even his work before the accident felt flat and uninspired.

What a shame to think of on such a day. It was very warm for a month like April, almost summer-like, the weather wonderful, the warm rays of the sun caressing his skin and transforming the park he was currently at into a play of lights and shadows. It would be a great scenery to draw, easy, but with that certain indefinable something.

Grimacing, Kili closed his sketch-book. The lines were messy, not even rudimentarily the way he’d wanted them to be. Perhaps trying something simpler would help. Getting up from the bench the brunet thought about searching for an easier subject. At the moment the park was about to be reshaped as part of the eighth centenary celebration of the city. Maybe he would at least manage to draw flowers like he used to, although Kili was having doubts at the moment. Still, he headed into one of the parts of the park, where gardeners were already busy with arranging beds of flowers.

His feet carried him to one of them, eyes going to one of the tulips sticking out among the others, the only one that wasn’t blossoming just yet. Opening his sketch book once more Kili got down on one knee and began drawing. Absorbed in his studies of the texture of the petals and leaves and the colour transitioning from yellow into a rich red, the artist didn’t notice the person heading towards him, before a shadow covered the sun and the heat banging on his back ceased.

Frowning, Kili looked up, blinking against the bright rays.

The guy was wearing a green shirt and long olive trousers, the rubber gloves, dirty with soil, indicated him as one of the gardeners working at the park right now. His long hair was shining in the sun, glistening like threads of gold and the painter in Kili couldn’t help but admire the colour, even though it couldn’t unfold its beauty, tamed by a braid as it was. Looking at the other against the sun told Kili that the blue eyes directed at his sketch-book were appearing darker than they actually were. It was the sea the artist spotted in the dark orbs, when in truth they had to be little pieces of the sky.

And when at last a smile, framed by a neatly trimmed beard, revealed dimples, Kili could’ve sworn to be faced with a piece of art. His fingers, holding the pen, twitched with the sudden urge to draw.  

“That looks great!” the blond complimented him, gaze still fixed to the little sketch and the spell was broken.

Yanked back into reality with a force that caused the brunet almost to lose his balance, he glanced at his drawing. What he saw caused him to press his lips into a thin line. The lines were messy and couldn’t catch the true beauty of the colour. It rather looked like the tulips ugly little sister, no ounce of youth, innocence and delicateness was displayed by his work. Everything he’d seen in this flower was gone, transferred to paper. It didn’t simply look wrong, it _felt_ wrong.

“Nah, it’s crap.”

The smile on the other’s features dropped, the sight of it settling a painful pull into Kili’s chest, as if he’d just ruined an artwork. It wasn’t really fair. The blond probably had only wanted to be nice, perhaps truly thought the work was alright and didn’t deserve such a rude answer.

Kili had thought he was over that constant state of bitterness, hitting him after being released from the hospital. Thought he was done with raging and hurting and ripping his old work to shreds or throwing it angrily into the dustbin. Had believed with his decision to try, to fight not only for his body, but also for his hobby, to regain his old strength and that the frustration would finally lessen. Instead it seemed stronger than ever, but this wasn’t the blond’s fault.

“Well, I guess I don’t know anything about art,” the other mused. His voice sounded even, but Kili noticed a slight hint of distance replacing the previous geniality.

“I’m sorry. I’m fighting an art block at the moment. Don’t mind me,” the brunet apologised, for really, what was wrong with him? He should simply accept a compliment, especially coming from a gardener. The blond’s whole day had to revolve around flowers and plants. If someone would know if Kili had caught the essence of the tulip, it would be someone of his profession. Perhaps it wasn’t his art that was wrong since the accident, but he himself. “I’m glad you think it looks great. It always means a lot coming from another great artist,” Kili added with a smile.

The other stared at him in clear confusion.

“Well, you _are_ an artist. You just don’t use a pen or a brush,” he explained.

“If you say it like that, who am I to disagree?” the blond chuckled, the smile returned and the artwork was back.

“So, what’s the great plan behind the arrangements?”

“Oh, I’m not allowed to tell, it’s a big secret,” the blond winked secretively.

“A very bad secret if anyone can walk by and watch you work,” Kili retorted.

The other laughed brightly at that. “Touché!”

They chattered for some time, before the gardener had to go back to work, waving at Kili with a smile after saying goodbye. It was only after they had parted that the brunet realised he didn’t even know the name of the blond. Which was a pity, really, since he’d truly enjoyed talking to him. At least he had caught a glance at the label on the back of his shirt. That was something to work with if nothing else.

 _Baggin’s Garden Centre and Flower Shop_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was Dis birthday tomorrow and Kili wanted to pay her a surprise visit with a bouquet of flowers. She lived a good three hours train ride away and therefore Kili usually only called her, work didn’t always allow a visit. But work was a bit complicated since the accident and the art block. Besides, he hoped to see a certain blond again. Kili hadn’t been able to spot him working in the park on the days following their brief encounter.

He needed to see him again, needed the motivation his voice and gentle expression had surged through his body. For the first time, in what had felt like ages, the brunet had managed to produce a drawing he was satisfied with. It was merely a pair of hauntingly deep blue eyes, sketched from his memory and painted with the exact colour Kili had studied during their little talk. He almost wanted to claim to have found his new muse, however, after only chatting with the other for a couple of minutes, this thought sounded a little creepy in his head. A sudden spark of inspiration was probably more like it.

 _Baggin’s Garden Centre and Flower Shop_ was a complex of three halls with a connected parking area, located at the edge of the city. Kili couldn’t spot many cars, but the business had to go well if they could afford such a huge building. At the entrance a couple of flowers were displayed in a beautiful arrangement and as soon as he headed into the shop the unique scent of different flowers unfolded their variety. It contained something sweet and tangy. If colours had a scent and he would blend them, Kili had no doubts that this was what they would smell like.

He hadn't often gone to flower shops, mostly went for chocolates if he needed a present at the last minute and therefore began to wander through the section, his eyes going to the differently shaped plants and their individual coloration. One of the employees was busy with preparing a bouquet for another customer and so the brunet was completely undisturbed.

The shop looked even bigger inside than from the outside. In the first hall flowers for bouquets waited next to the counter, along with decorative items and supplies in general. A small group of school children lingered in front of a shelf and discussed how many of the dried plants they would need, probably preparing for a school project.

The next hall contained seeds and potted flowers, glistening with droplets and indicating they had just been watered. The little indoor fountain created a calming atmosphere with its soft gurgling and the beagle lazing around on a blanket at the end of hall caused Kili to smile. This wasn't a small flower shop squeezed into a cramped room at a busy shopping promenade, this place was open and wide and cosy not only because it seemed as if the plants could breathe freely here, but with the relaxed way the dog stared at him.

The last section didn't offer much besides gardening utensils. Shovels, spades, rakes, bags with fertiliser and right there he spotted the blond from the park. Hair held by a messy bun he heaved a huge bag up onto his shoulders and back and carried it to the others at the end of the hall. When he turned around to store away the remaining bags of the delivery, he spotted Kili standing by the entrance to the hall.

"Oh, it's the artist from the other day."

Kili couldn't help but grin at the blond remembering him. The gardener wiped the sweat from his brow as he headed over to him.

"I prefer Kili, but artist will do, too," he shrugged nonchalantly.

It was strange. He wasn't really seeing himself as an artist since the accident, felt as if this term just wouldn't suit him anymore and his lack of creativity was simply another prove that his days of creating were over. But the blond's comments the other day and now his greeting still filled him with warmth. Perhaps because he looked so genuine while praising him or maybe it was being noninvoled that made him stand out. He didn't know of Kili's struggles and therefore had no reason to lie to him, didn't even have a reason to speak with him in the first place.

Now that Kili came to think of it, the gardener could've just walked by in the park, instead he'd studied the sketch and complimented on it.

"No way! Your name is Kili?" the other asked, eyes going wide with disbelief. At Kili's confused look the blond chuckled. "Hello, Kili, my name is Fili."

The brunet laughed at the coincidence.

"No way," he repeated Fili's words. The other's smile was open and amused, leaving no room for jesting. "Well, then. It's nice to meet you again."

"So, what brings you here? Looking for more flowers to draw?"

"Actually, it's my mother’s birthday tomorrow and I wanted to surprise her with flowers."

"Oh, good or bad relationship? For if it is the latter there are ways to let the flowers talk for you," the blond told him with a smirk.

"I see, you are my contact person when I want to tell someone 'fuck you' through flowers."

"Always here for the needs of my customers."

Kili chuckled. Fili had just become a lot more likeable.

"Well, that's good to know, but I get along great with my mum... at least since I moved out, so I would appreciate to remain on good terms with her."

"I can help with that, come along," waving, he urged the brunet to trail him.

Frowning, Kili followed Fili hesitantly.

"I can go to your colleague, don't you have to continue with your work?"

"What? The bags? Trust me, they won't run away."

Together they returned to the head of the shop, where Kili told him the price he had in mind for the bouquet and Fili set to work, reaching for ranunculi, freesias, tulips and gerberas to arrange them in a beautiful play of colours, adorned by statices, baby's breath and salal.

While he worked Kíli couldn't help but admired the blond's hands, spotted calluses, small scars of cuts, most likely once inflicted by thorns and other parts of plants. His fingers were long, perfect for playing instruments and probably able to offer the softest of touches one could imagine. Even though his nails seemed well-groomed, there was dirt under them. Fili's hands were a symbiosis of strong and gentle, masculine and filigreed and Kili found himself lost in their movements.

Like the last time the brunet felt his own fingers twitch with the sudden urge to sketch, to draw, to paint, to create. He needed to capture those hands, add them to the sparkling eyes. It should feel weird, the way he was drawn to Fili, instead it seemed natural, as if everything that had once inspired him had taken on a body, returning to him in form of the other man.

He shook his head slightly, while the blond was busy with binding the flowers. It must be Fili's gift fascinating him, the way he arranged flowers that they formed their own piece of art. There couldn't be any other explanation as to what he unleashed inside him.

Dispelling the thoughts, he took the bouquet Fili handed him, peeking through an opening in the wrapping to catch a glance at the blond's finished work. It was beautiful. Right when he was about to open his mouth to thank the gardener, Fili beat him to it.

"I hope this isn't completely inappropriate, but... would you like to go to the eighth centenary celebration with me?"

He blinked with surprise. This was definitely not what he'd been expecting... if he should be honest, he hadn't expected anything at all, perhaps a 'goodbye' and 'have a nice day' but certainly not being asked out.

"You mean like a date?" he wondered.

The sight of dimples at Fili's smile made the decision easier. Kili had always preferred guys with laugh lines and the likes, it was a small thing most barely took notice of, but spoke of someone able to enjoy their lives and not looking at everything so grim.

"Yeah, I mean, if you want to?"

"Definitely," Kili replied. It had been far too long since the last time and even if this wouldn't be anything for the future a little bit of fun was nothing to sneeze at either. Perhaps it could even shut his mind up, constantly worrying about being unable to draw or it might pull him even more under Fili's charm, than simply admiring eyes and hands. It was a risk worth taking.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After exchanging numbers, Kili set off. In the days following up to the eighth centenary celebration they texted constantly, in the beginning just doing small talk, but soon sending each other nonsense that made them laugh. Fili was very open with the fact that he'd been adopted. From what Kili could discern, he wasn't bitter about it at all, which was immensely relieving. The brunet was still struggling with the consequences of his accident and wasn't ready to deal with other people's baggage right now. His frustration on most days was big enough for two anyway. Although, this view might change soon, if he regarded Fili's impact on his art.

More often than not he found himself with a smile on his face, sketching while he waited for Fili's next text to make his phone buzz. He would draw the blond's strong and gentle hands from memory and afterwards switch to other ideas he'd been nursing for some time, but not dared to try, the fear of failure paralysing him.

Kili learned that Bilbo Baggins, the owner of the gardening shop, was Fili's father, who had passed his love for plants and flowers to his adopted son. Whereas the brunet admitted that he would've never dreamed of becoming an artist had his mother not praised the ugly little figures he'd drawn in kindergarten.

It had been the first picture he'd been immensely proud of and her reaction had influenced him more than she probably knew. In the years following she hadn't been that supportive anymore, wanted him to aim for a job he could make a living with and which wasn't so fickle. They had fought often, but in the end his persistence and hard work had offered him a great job in a company. She had admitted to have been too harsh too often and was glad to be proved wrong. And then the accident had ruined pretty much everything.

Two weeks in Fili told him he was sick of waiting for their date, the preparations for the eighth centenary celebration going on for another ten days, and asked him to come to the shop to spent the afternoon together. He would've to work, but there wouldn't be many customers on a Saturday anyway. Kili had never agreed to anything faster.

It became common to go to the flower shop for him. With the compensation paying the rent for now and his precarious working skills, Kili spent most of his time at home anyway and having a reason to go out felt amazing. Whenever Fili was busy with a costumer, Kili would take out his sketch-book.

Bilbo didn't mind his presence, seemed rather like he wanted to adopt him as well with the cordial way he greeted him every time Kili visited.

"So, tell me something about the language of flowers," he asked the other, while Fili was about to arrange a bouquet, ordered over the phone.

Kili leaned against a table in the back of the shop, the wide doorway offering a good view at the counter. On busy days the bouquets were arranged in this part of the shop, since the counter was too small to have more than one employee work at it.

"Well, every flower has their meaning, which is why you wouldn't give every flower to a lover. White lilies for example are typical funeral flowers."

"I guess arguing that they are pretty wouldn't save me, then."

Fili laughed.

"Perhaps if the person doesn't know anything about the language of flowers, if they do, though, it wouldn't help to fix the faux pas."

"What about the bouquet you made for my mother. What would it have told me, had I known their language?"

Fili smirked, but didn't disrupt his work and Kili didn't press. This was the blond's working hours after all, he could count himself lucky to be allowed to spent time with him here. When the order was done, Fili gave him a hint to follow. They stopped at the display of cut flowers next to the counter.

“First of all, you need to know that some meanings differ according to the culture and the colours of the flower can be important as well. The bouquet for your mother was made of ranunculi, freesias, tulips and gerberas. Ranunculi tell the receiver that you think them wonderful, freesias that you want to share your happiness with them, tulips speak of love and with gerberas you tell someone they brighten your day.”

His gaze followed Fili’s finger as he pointed to the flowers he was speaking of. Kili found himself lost in the pleasant sound of the other’s voice and felt a deep sense of affection, knowing what a couple of well-chosen flowers were able to tell. Fili deserved to receive gerberas. Since Kili had begun to spend his days with the blond a dark curtain seemed to have lifted from his life. The suffocating feeling had reduced and the light returned.

He wasn’t very certain what he wanted to say to Fili, but something was sitting on the tip of his tongue and needed to get out, just that when he turned his head to look at the blond, Kili suddenly realised how close they were, kneeling next to the flowers. Losing himself in the deep blue of Fili’s irises as their eyes met, every eloquent thought was ripped from him.

“And… and what about roses?” Kili asked softly, searching for anything that would help him to prevent this moment from turning awkward. Roses seemed to be the only flowers he still could remember the name of under Fili’s gaze.

“Depends on the colour.”

“Red.” Like Fili’s lips.

“Love,” the other answered just as quietly, as if not to disturb the silence in the shop. “With giving someone red roses you confess your love.”

Kili didn’t know, who was the first to lean forward, if he was initiating it and Fili followed his example or the other way round. It didn’t matter, felt as if they both moved at the same time, in a silent way of understanding. He tilted his head, their lips almost brushing.

The door to the shop opened, the bell announcing another customer and the spell was broken.

Hurriedly they went back up with Fili greeting the stranger, whereas Kili felt heat rising to his cheeks.

“I… I think I have to head home. There are still a few things I have to take care of,” the brunet murmured hastily. It wasn’t a lie, he actually had to run a few errands, he just hadn’t planned to leave so soon. But his heart was beating furiously and he couldn’t tell if he would manage a normal conversation with Fili now, after what just happened. He needed time to compose himself.

“I will see you tomorrow at the eighth centenary celebration, then,” Fili replied with a kind smile.

He nodded, waving goodbye when the other turned to the customer.

Kili spent the whole evening with painting the swirl of emotions overwhelming him at their almost-kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It didn’t feel like their first date as they strolled through the streets and parks and over squares. Booths were lining those places, offering food, souvenirs, clothes and all kinds of other goods. One place was reserved for funfair rides, raffle ticket booths and sweets stands, whereas live music greeted them at another part of the eighth centenary celebration. They bought some candied fruits, took a ride on the Ferris wheel and had a look at most of the booths, all the while Fili held his hand, as if shouting to the world they belonged together. Kili didn’t mind in the slightest, enjoyed the feeling of Fili’s fingers intertwined with his and the sense of belonging they transported.

They chatted, listened to the bands playing and tried to win each other prizes at some of the booths, both of them failing miserably and laughing about their bad luck. It was already quite chilly, when they took a seat on a bench in the park. But Fili had been prepared, briefly leaving him near the stage to head back to his car to fetch a blanket. And now they sat here, arm wound around the other and waiting for the fireworks set for midnight.

It was a cloudless night, with the full moon illuminating their surroundings. It gave Kili the opportunity to have a look at the park. He hadn’t been here since meeting Fili and was finally able to catch a glimpse at the gardener's work. Even though it was dark and the colours of the flowers barely noticeable, they still looked beautiful in the silver moonlight.

“You have truly outdone yourself. If I think back at this park a couple of weeks ago… it was nice to sit here then and again, but certainly no sight to admire, now however…”

Fili chuckled. Sitting as close as they did, it sent vibrations through his body.

“You seriously need to stop praising my work or I won’t be able to prevent myself from kissing you.”

That was music to his ears. Kili grinned, looking away from the park and searching Fili’s gaze instead.

“Then don’t,” he dared him and gave the other the silent permission he asked for.

The expression in Fili’s eyes softened, flooding Kili’s insides with a warmth that wasn’t in the least related to the blanket covering them. His heart sped up as Fili leaned closer, urging Kili to bridge what little distance separated their lips.

It wasn’t like Kili had imagined, it felt even better. Fili’s lips were soft and hesitant at first, but gained confidence with every passing second. When Kili opened his mouth to invite Fili’s tongue, the blond was quick to follow the offering. They pressed closer, the blanket almost slipping, but he couldn’t say if he would’ve even felt it if it did, he didn’t really need the extra warmth with Fili already so close.

At one point the first bang of the beginning firework cut through the quietness of the park, but it couldn’t interrupt their heated kissing. Kili hadn’t noticed how starved for physical affection he’d been, until it was offered to him again.

After the accident he had been alone. People he’d met during studying and which he believed to be his friends not once visiting him, while his friends from his schooldays took turns to be with him as he recovered, taking a vacation just to support him with their presence. They lived on the other side of the country or an ocean away, but still they came and kept him company, making sure he was getting better. They didn’t often manage to spent time together, so after he’d recovered it reduced again. And while he was thankful for their support, he had felt utterly alone, once they had to leave. There was no one living close by he still cared to trust and then he’d met Fili, who was holding him in an equally strong and gentle embrace, drawing a moan from his throat with the way he kissed him.

He trusted Fili, not only because of his own judgement, but Bilbo’s behaviour. A man like this couldn’t raise a child that left others at the first sight of trouble. And so he let go of any walls the accident might have installed inside him, ready to let Fili in should the blond demand it.

Fili panted against his lips once he pulled away long enough to speak.

“I fear we have missed the fireworks.”

Kili couldn’t care less, it certainly wouldn’t have been able to compete with the firework he was feeling in his body at Fili’s touch.

“I live close by,” Kili breathed instead.

The hunger burning in Fili’s eyes made him shiver with anticipation.

No words were exchanged afterwards. Kili led him to his flat, where they disposed of their clothes as the door fell shut. He couldn’t say if he was surprised or amused to learn that Fili was prepared for this night to go further than a kiss, he definitely didn’t feel like complaining. Not when Fili touched him at all the right places, making him moan and mewl and scream and pant until he thought his heart was going to give out.

He felt light and free by the time Fili’s arms wound around him, after they’d cleaned up the worst of the mess. As the breathing of the other evened out as he fell asleep, Kili embraced the sense of comfort, he didn’t even mind the smell of sweat clinging to the other, which was unusual for the brunet. But as he lay there, still wide awake he couldn’t deny that this was all he wanted. He wanted their relationship to grow into something steady, wanted to fall asleep beside Fili and wake up next to him, wanted to be the only one those hands caressed and wanted to give the same pleasure in return. It was the first time after a very long couple of months that the brunet could admit to himself to feel happy.

For a while he waited for sleep to come, but his desire to feel their closeness for a little while longer kept him from the tiredness he should begin to sense. So at some point he simply gave up, rolled around and watched Fili sleep. The curtains hadn’t been drawn and so the light of the moon flooded unimpeded into the room, covering the man beside him in its silver sheen. Bathed in it, Fili looked almost serene, like a being from another world… like the piece of art he was.

Kili’s fingers twitched.

He was able to suppress the urge for perhaps two minutes, before he gently untangled himself, as not to wake Fili. In the bright light of the moon Kili collected a black sheet of paper and a white piece of chalk. It seemed ages ago since he’d drawn the last time with chalk, but this was a sight he never wanted to forget. Therefore the brunet quietly placed a chair at the other side of the room, took a seat, still naked, and began to capture Fili’s peaceful frame.

Three and a half hours later, in the early morning hours, Kili deemed the drawing finished and crawled back into Fili’s arms, leaving smudges of white chalk on the blond’s skin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The following weeks were busier than Kili had imagined. With his art block finally not bothering him anymore, he went back to his old job. After his accident the company had voiced their desire to see him return to his old workplace and gladly had stayed true to their promise. The only negative thing that came with it was that he couldn’t spend as much time with Fili as in the weeks prior. But they made it work, met as often as possible and grew closer with every passing day.

Kili knew what he wanted. Work was going well and his time with Fili was the highlight of his days. It was time.

“Oh, hello Kili!” Bilbo greeted him as he entered the shop on the next day.

“Hello Bilbo,” the brunet replied with a bright smile.

“I fear Fili isn’t here. He is doing some landscape gardening for a hospital.”

“That’s fine, I actually wanted to see you.”

Understanding dawned on Bilbo’s features.

“Oh, what kind of flowers do you have in mind?”

With a soft smile, Kili’s eyes wandered to the huge vase, holding a certain kind of flowers.

“Ah,” Bilbo exclaimed knowingly.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Fili’s look of surprise was priceless, when he spotted Kili waiting at the steps to his small house. Work must’ve been long and exhausting. Fili was dirty and sweaty, through the latter probably came from the hot July day, even Kili felt the droplets of sweat running down his back at the oppressive heat.

The blond got over the initial astonishment pretty fast, smiled brightly and hurried over to him, his eyes wandered curiously to Kili’s arms, hiding something behind his back. Before he could come close enough for a kiss and ruin the surprise if he caught a glance at what the brunet was holding, Kili stopped him.

“Wait, I want to say something first.”

Fili was clearly amused. He ignored it.

Kili took a deep breath, swallowed the nervousness and fear of rejection down and began to speak:

“When we first met I wasn’t happy with myself. I was frustrated and angry and had a hard time seeing my art as something worth mentioning. But now I can feel proud of my work again, I’m back in my job and I’m throughoutly happy and that’s because of you. You helped me to let go of an inner blockade I had created. I wouldn’t feel like I can breathe freely again, if it wasn’t for you. Thank you, Fee, for guiding me through this hard time. And…” He took another deep breath. “And I’m going to do this your way and hope you will accept it.”

Pulling the flowers out from behind his back, he offered the blond the bouquet of red roses.

For a brief second there was only panic wandering through his mind, as Fili’s eyes widened with shock. For a brief second he was cursing himself, wondering what was wrong with him. Of course Fili was only looking for something uncommitted and merely wanted to have fun and how could Kili believe even for a second that he was special enough to deserve a relationship with this wonderful man? For a brief second Kili wanted to turn around and run away.

But then Fili smiled with so much warmth and affection, it dispelled the fear. At least for a couple of heartbeats. His gift might be accepted, but he didn’t know Fili’s answer.

Biting on the insides of his cheeks, the brunet tried to calm down.

Fili carefully reached for one of the roses, gently separating it from the others.

“I can only hope you accept as well,” Fili said, his smile not once wavering as he held the rose out to Kili.

Needless to say, Kili reached for it without hesitation.

 

 


End file.
